


Blackness

by Shiva_Eustass



Category: Naruto
Genre: AU, Other, angsty, hitman - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-16
Updated: 2017-04-16
Packaged: 2018-10-19 18:53:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,341
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10645932
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shiva_Eustass/pseuds/Shiva_Eustass
Summary: (posted on FF.com as well)





	Blackness

**Author's Note:**

> (posted on FF.com as well)

/watch?v=ymosNJRlunA

you'll understand as you read this...

* * *

˝I try forget but you.. I try I try ˝- he sang in a slow voice. ˝Touch me...slowly...take me back.˝- He flipped the gun - ˝hurt me slowly...take me back˝- The gun was flipped back again. The shiny surface of the metal reflecting his face. As the black and white faded he was reminded just why he did this.

Why he killed.

Why he died.

With each stroke of the fine cloth against the cold steel he inhaled it, the aftermath of gunpowder and the faint smell of blood. Licked his lips as he savored the memory. Once you kill, you never forget that look. The fade of the light in someone's eyes. The way the color in the irises washes out and vanishes into nothing. The body looses its control, contorts and falls to the ground, no reflexes no last hope. It just stops working. The flesh dies slowly at first, the blood leaving it in streams of crimson rivers, like a bloody halo. The warmth leaves fast, he held a dying man's hand once, it was so hot, burning but at one moment it cooled as fast as blowing out a candle light, the skin whitening and cooling as ice. Under his touch the skin turned to paper, all the elasticity gone with the blood. He'd feel it all, every single exhale of the body, the last twitches.

Because he'd die too.

His skin would prickle as the blackness settled over it. As would his eyes close he'd sigh in ecstasy. Dying was the highest form of high you'd get. Forget coke and meth, not even the fucking 'shrooms gave you this feeling of levitating above the ground, feeling truly immortal as you died.

The sounds of the streets outside were a cacophony of car honks, people chatting on the streets, beggars wailing for cash, hookers offering an easy night. The thundering of a never sleeping city. He smiled to himself. It was easy to loose your trace here, blend in with the urban jungle and enjoy life. Enjoy killing.

Beside him the screen of his laptop flickered. A new red flag popped into his inbox. A new email.

On his business email address.

Lazily he opened it and scanned the contents. A female this time, husband abusing yada yada will offer cash, clean death. He smiled again. His god would punish such sinners and he was a tool of the divine. He glanced at the wall in front of him. A circle was painted cleanly with his blood, a triangle pointing down and a black and red scythe mounted under it. ˝Praise Jashin...˝- he muttered.

A quick check on both of his Glocks, a few extra refills, a dagger in his right boot and a smaller hunting knife in his left. He never wore bulletproof vests, why would he when he'd die anyways? Just a light leather jacket and his necklace in place. The same symbol painted on the wall.

He didn't drink, nor smoke. That was something sinners did and he was a priest. A tool of his God ready to do His work.

Since the first time he'd ever done it, he was never afraid, never suspecting his faith.

Jashin would pull him back from the blackness each time he died and took a sinner with him.

It didn't matter which or what the sinner was, as long as Jashin would have chosen him, he'd kill and relive the ecstasy of dying, serving Jashin. The pull of darkness as the wave passed and the cold came.

He walked the short distance towards the meeting spot. The woman was already there, a small paper bag in her perfectly manicured hand. She was a sinner as well. He could see it and Jashin would soon too, he'd be back for her.

A smile from him, a frightened look from her, the cash exchanged with the photo of the husband.

He was alone again with the will of his God and a Glock ready to fire . Hidan sniffed the air, the same stench of the city filled his nose as it did yesterday. A city of sin.

He preferred walking and it wasn't a big distance to find this motherfucker. He was a sinner through and through, using the women of the night as he pleased and then he'd come back to his wife, fuck her and hit her. Hidan smiled again. A great sinner this man was. He found him in one of the brothels, in a room of the far east corner. Moldy spots on the wallpaper looked like stars in the small space where only a bed was. With his sinner on top of a woman, fucking his way through. Hidan nestlled in the crook of the door frame and watched. Waited.

He didn't get hard at the sight, he riled in the sin they made, fueled his prayers towards Jashin. The moans that filled the small, rotten room where haleluja's too him, calling him to end it. Purify their shitty little souls.

With a grunt the man finished, blowing his load inside the hooker and sighing. The bed creaked under his weight as he got off, pants still around his ankles.

˝The fuck are you ? Fucking pervert staring at me˝- His eyes narrowed into nasty small points of hate. Hidan smiled and took his Glock out. Then the small knife he had in his left boot and approached.

˝You're a nasty fucking sinner, you know that? He will love your soul. He will fucking purify you˝

˝A religious fuck. Motherfucker˝- The hooker yelped at the sight of the weapons and half naked ran through the door. No money was worth getting shot or killed. She'd earn it back in an hour anyways. Hidan frowned at her. Another sinner.

˝Get on your knees so I can do my job˝

˝My wife, that's right. She must have hired you. That nasty piece of shit˝- The man spat on the floor with a grimace ˝Should have beaten her senseles, that would have taught her˝

˝I'll do her too...˝- Hidan said with a smile. He was cold and calm. Ready to finish his ritual. The man stared at him.

˝Fucking weird ass hitman˝- Hidan smiled.

˝I'm a priest actually˝- And he shot him in the left arm, just above the joint where his shoulder and arm met. The man fell down in pain. Hot , red blood soaked his shirt. He didn't even bother undressing himself. Sinner.

Hidan approached him and nicked his palm. Smeared their bloods together. Licked the knife clean. The man watched him with crazy eyes. Hidan sighed contently. Soon it would be done. The fine prickling sensation in his skin returned. The white skin turned black, spots of white remaining as he turned into the Reaper himself.

He laughed suddenly and used the knife to cut his palm open. The blood swelled, droplets falling onto the dirty floor. He moved in a circle, moved diagonally and finally stopped. Hi eyes shone in their purple glow, it was as if something illuminated him from the inside. His face was a picture of a skull and he turned the Glock to his temple smiling. ˝Praise Jashin˝- and pulled the trigger.

He felt it.

As the bullet pierced the skin, the cartilage and the bone, moved through the soft tissue of his brain and exited wildly on the other side, ripping his skull into pieces. His body tumbled down into the drawn symbol.

The man had fallen as well. An identical hole in his head.

Hidan felt the adrenaline pumping as his life abandoned him, cooling him. He saw his blood and smiled. He was already flying, higher and higher, almost reaching Jashin himself. He saw purple spots dancing in front of his eyes and oxygen became poison. Thick and oily blackness was pulling him towards its depth.

 _Praise Jashin.._ he thought as the blackness enveloped him entirely.

* * *

a/n : not sure where I was going with this tbh...


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